


Not a Robot

by 779H41, quillingyousoftly



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Cybrogs, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Comic Book Science, Embedded Images, Gen, Identity Porn, Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019, Memory Loss, Nothing too explicit, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21885397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/779H41/pseuds/779H41, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillingyousoftly/pseuds/quillingyousoftly
Summary: When he touches the soft, rubbery skin, he feels the hard parts of metal and plastic that make out his features beneath, welded in the remains of flesh he still has. They're unlike any bone.Staring now at his face, he tries to remember his previous one, but the memory is blurry.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019





	Not a Robot

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta D20Owlbear!

Heavy magnetic cuffs keep Soldier's metal arm stuck to the bars, but his other metal arm, the skin-covered one, remains free. They always make that mistake. It's what _they_ counted on when they left the left arm bare.

He waits for the cell to go dark. Then, he frees himself. The agents that stand in his way are little more than an annoyance; Soldier goes through them like a knife through butter, then sneaks outside, the empty cuffs and the carnage left behind the only proof of his presence. 

Soldier likes the night; has liked it as long as he can remember, even though can’t remember much. It’s easier to hide in the darkness and remain unnoticed. It’s easier not to notice his own reflection in the windows, easier to avoid people.

Hydra, as he knows it, is gone and returning there, to the Bank, the only place he’s ever considered his home, is pointless. Mr. Pierce is dead, his handler is in custody. There’s no one waiting for him but his enemies, no one to pat him on the back and tell him he’s done good. Because Soldier didn’t do good. It was all his fault. He failed, and Hydra won’t give people the world they deserve.

He has nowhere else to go, so he wanders aimlessly. As he does, the sky lights up with the rising sun. More people come out on the streets, and Soldier feels discomfort among them. He has always belonged in the shadows or tops of high buildings, away from them. But he has learned to ignore his discomfort unless it’s a sign of a serious malfunction. The priority has always been the mission. And the only mission Soldier has left is to kill the man on the bridge. Captain America.

He distracts himself with watching the people behind the store windows. Especially bakers are full at this hour. The people inside don’t notice him watching, interested more in the products than what’s happening outside.

He stops in front of a clothing store, looking up at a mannequin dressed in a dark suit. Its stare is blank, features undefined, as if Soldier’s looking at a block of wax. It doesn't wear any expression, doesn't feel anything.

In the pane, just beneath the mannequin's face, Soldier's own is reflecting. It looks the same. The skin covering it barely wrinkles when he opens his mouth. It looks like a mask. Does he feel any emotions? He wasn't supposed to. He was only supposed to follow orders, not have feelings about them.

But does he?

When he touches the soft, rubbery skin, he feels the hard parts of metal and plastic that make out his features beneath, welded in the remains of flesh he still has. They're unlike any bone.

Staring now at his face, he tries to remember his previous one, but the memory is blurry.

*

_Soldier was stabbed in the eye. Having a smaller visual field gives him physical signs of negative emotions. He might be malfunctioning._

_"I'm detecting signs of malfunction," he informs his handler._

_"Yeah, yeah." His handler pats him on the shoulder, his purposeful gait not hesitating._

_The malfunction has been already noticed, then, and they're heading to the maintenance room. Soldier should have realized. He was stabbed in the eye, after all._

_Perhaps he's malfunctioning more than he previously assessed._

_There's chaos in the maintenance room as they enter, white coats going this way and that like a bee colony. Soldier doesn't understand what they're doing, nor does he remember how he knows about bee colonies. His handler exchanges a few words with one of them. She presents something to him._

_His handler looks at him over his shoulder. "Wanna see?"_

_Soldier doesn't answer. He is supposed to follow orders, not want things. But his handler is nice, and tells the white coat to show him._

_It's an eyeless face._

_He looks at his handler quizzically. He is not supposed to ask questions unless they're about his missions. But he is allowed to look._

_His handler smiles in a way that isn't nice at all. "You have no idea what happened to you, do you?"_

_He rushes to the nearest desk where a surgical tray lies. He swipes all the tools away, to the enraged protests of his colleagues, and raises it to Soldier's face._

_Not only Soldier's eye is injured. The left side of his face is slashed. It's still oozing blood that sinks in his stubble. Soldier sees meat and bone. It's a neat explanation for why his face feels numb._

*

Soldier comes back to that memory a lot. He tries hard to remember the reflection in the surgical tray. He sees the pink of the meat and the white of the bone vividly, but no more than that.

As he does, another reflection surfaces in his mind. The one of the mirror he saw after the face change. The fake eye was also blue, but its shade was different. Electric.

It also gave a different view, and he struggled to process it. It reminded him of looking through a kaleidoscope. He didn't remember how he knew what that meant either. The temperature reading, different colors, and night vision in only one eye was giving him headaches, so some time later, his other eye, albeit uninjured, was also replaced. Soldier felt better.

Somebody shoves something in his hand, shaking him out of his reverie. He looks at it in shock. It's a piece of paper with his target's face on it. He looks over his shoulder. A young man—a kid, really—is handing out the pieces of paper from the stack he's holding. Leaflets, Soldier’s mind supplies.

He looks at his leaflet again. At the very top, bright letters invite him to an exposition in the Smithsonian. He looks back at the museum he has just passed. He goes. It turns out he needs a ticket to enter the exhibit, and the tickets cost money, so he pickpockets a passerby. It’s been a while since he needed to pickpocket people; Hydra provided everything he could have possibly needed. Now, he might need to do it often.

The guards hold him up at the entrance, and when their metal detector beeps, he shows them his arm—just enough of it to convince them it’s an ordinary metal prosthetic. They don’t find the knife he has hidden in his boot.

Once let in, he reads all the intel available and listens to the voice-over. He learns about his target and his companions. It doesn't help him figure out where to look for him, but he’s awash with a feeling of familiarity. Perhaps it’s all the weapons around. Or perhaps Captain America has been Soldier's target before. Pierce said Soldier had met him on another assignment. Maybe he meant in the forties when Captain America allegedly died. Soldier remembers the forties. Perhaps Soldier had something to do with Captain America crashing into the ocean. 

History never recognizes Soldier's work, it is not supposed to.

Soldier enters the dark room and watches the video of the woman—Peggy Carter—talking about Captain America. He leaves it as clueless as he has entered it. Soldier rounds the exhibit for the last time before leaving. He stands in front of every display and rereads the intel. He has nothing else to do.

He stops for longer at the Bucky Barnes info board, but not because of what he's read. It's the man's face that makes him pause. He doesn't know why. It isn't familiar.

The info board says Barnes was an invaluable marksman. Soldier is also an invaluable marksman. But Barnes fought against Hydra. Soldier is Hydra's fist. If they had ever met, then they would have been enemies. According to the voice-over, Bucky Barnes died in the forties; perhaps Barnes' face captivates Soldier because he had been his target just like Captain America.

Hydra is gone now, but Soldier is not. He still has a mission and needs to complete it.

He walks to the exit with purpose, but he notices the redheaded woman standing nearby. He has been found. He turns around on his heel before she notices him. The back exit must be covered, too, so looking for it isn't worth the effort. Soldier can try squeezing through a window or sneaking past the redhead.

He walks along the walls, but the exposition is inconveniently windowless. Soldier doesn't worry. Soldier is a ghost. Soldier comes and goes as he pleases with only the dead to see.

There is a window in a restroom and a man at the urinal. Soldier knows he should hurry in case more men come, so he strides past him to the window. He opens it and steps onto the windowsill.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" the man exclaims.

Soldier hesitates, but he knows the man will not pursue him, so he jumps onto the lawn below him. He does not expect to hear the thumps of someone's footsteps. He turns around to see Captain America's winged friend sprinting right at him. He doesn’t have wings anymore, because Soldier had ripped them off. 

Soldier isn't fast enough, and Captain America's friend jumps him. This had never happened when Soldier was with Hydra. He should have expected the restroom windows were covered. He should have tried blending in with the crowd and sneaking past the redhead. With Hydra gone, Soldier makes mistakes. He needs maintenance, but there's no one left to do it. The realization brings unexpected relief. Soldier is not supposed to feel relief, but he is familiar with it.

Soldier must be malfunctioning.

"I got him," Captain America's friend says. But he's wrong. He doesn't have Soldier. Soldier has him.

Captain America's friend yelps when Soldier turns them around. He hasn't been prepared for Soldier's strength, and that's what he has counted on. He's now straddling the man's stomach and cutting off his breath with his hands around his throat. He could snap his neck with just two fingers, but he doesn't. The man is not his mission. 

The man's eyes roll back just when Soldier hears another set of footsteps on the lawn. His mission is running towards them both, and Soldier jumps to his feet. He could fight him now, but he remembers Captain America is a tough opponent even for his robotic strength. He will have better odds at defeating him with the guns he has hid in the bushes.

He starts for the bushes, his speed matching Captain America’s. He's a few steps ahead; if they were to run forever, Captain America would never catch him. But Soldier only needs to reach the bushes. He rolls over them, and his hand immediately finds one of his SIG-Sauers. He gets back onto his feet and aims at the still running Captain, knowing he will have no chance to turn back. Perhaps he will even ram into Soldier after being shot, but Soldier will escape easily. 

But Captain sees through his plan, and when Soldier shoots, he ducks. 

At the same time, a voice behind him, says, "I got him, Cap."

A force throws him on his stomach. He gets readings of the heat growing in his back. It's not painful, but it is uncomfortable and familiar: he has been shot from above. Not with a bullet, but something that’s melted his skin. He cannot move his legs; his spine must have been damaged.

He looks up, but he doesn't see the one who shot him. Captain America is standing in front of him, his face a mixture of shock and horror. Soldier knows what he sees: his skin melted away to reveal metal, wires and a soft blue glow of his 'heart'. 

"He's a robot!" Captain exclaims in surprise.

"Not a robot," Soldier spits. He finds the word offensive. He is not supposed to find words offensive, with the exception of recognizing when someone is offending the head of Hydra. But Mr. Pierce is dead, so it doesn't matter right now. "Organic brain."

He wonders if there'll be a new head, or if Hydra is done for good. It seems unlikely it is. Hydra has been around for centuries. They will get back on their feet

Soldier will bring them Captain America's head, once he can move his legs again.

Right now though, he’s lifted by Captain America and a man in gold and red armor, that must be the one who shot him, and dragged to a van Captain America’s friend is opening. Soldier leers at his neck and hopes to see bruises soon.

People stop to watch as Avengers shove Soldier inside the vehicle. Captain America’s friend takes the wheel, the redhead rides shotgun. Captain America sits beside Soldier on the backseat. Soldier can’t move his legs, but his arms are functional. After the car starts running, Soldier throws himself on the Captain, his hands closing on his throat. But the Captain is enhanced and he pries Soldier’s hands away in under a minute. He keeps Soldier in a hold, trapping his arms, the whole way out of the city. Then he’s dragged out of the car and to an aircraft, and he spends another hour in the hold. He relaxes into it, faking recumbency and waiting for an opening.

He doesn’t get an opening. He’s dragged into a tower, manhandled into a chair and cuffed to a metal table. This time, the magnetic cuffs hold both his wrists, and he knows it’ll take time to get out of here.

The man in the armor, out of it now, approaches Soldier’s open back and starts poking inside. The Captain, his friend whose throat is finally bruised, and the redhead stand nearby. Soldier tries to ignore the man rooting in his back and focus on his escape plan instead.

"Sonofabitch," the man curses suddenly. Soldier can't tell what he's doing in his back and what upset him.

The rest of the team walks over to take a look.

"Is that—?"

" _My_ arc reactor." 

Soldier braces himself; the man is clearly angry, and anger might mean pain. Hydra has made sure there still are ways to hurt him despite his nonorganic body, and the man seems to know what he's made of very well. 

"Not made by my hand, which makes it even more stolen," the man adds and removes his hand. "But that means he was recently made. The rest of the equipment looks new as well. Except for this." Soldier reads a light touch on his left arm. "It might come from an older model."

"Zola said he has been changing the history for decades," Captain says.

"A series of robots?" the redhead asks.

"Not a robot," Soldier growls. "Organic brain."

No one responds, but Soldier can tell they're gesturing at each other by vibrations in the air. After a moment, they exit the room, leaving him alone.

According to his readings, he spends 41 hours and 45 minutes in the same bent-over position, but his body doesn’t signal discomfort. He's left alone for the most part. At one point, two men enter his holding room. The one whose arc reactor is glowing in Soldier's chest looks him over; he checks if his legs are still unresponsive and prods at the spots on his chest where his fake skin tore off, revealing twisted wires. The other one, tall with glasses, reminds Soldier of a scientist. He supposes he came here to fix him. But Glasses doesn't touch him, just asks if Soldier eats or if he needs oil. Soldier remains silent, because he doesn't answer questions enemies ask. No-Glasses says Soldier's brain might entirely run on the arc reactor.

Soldier doesn't know what his brain is running on. He was not briefed on his new body’s workings. He wonders briefly if he in fact needs fuel to survive. He doesn't remember ingesting anything in years. 

He thinks about other things when the men leave him behind. He thinks back to the past. He tries to remember. Mostly, he focuses on the memory of his face, or the lack of thereof. When he closes his eyes, the face of Bucky Barnes flashes beneath his eyelids.

Exactly 24 hours pass when the symptoms of malfunction increase significantly. The harder he tries to remember the reflection in the surgical tray, the more clear Bucky Barnes' face is in it.

Is he Bucky Barnes?

Soldier doesn't know. 

*

According to Tony, cyborgs are science fiction. They’re not sure if the Winter Soldier is telling the truth or if it’s just an AI protecting itself from a shutdown, so Tony has locked himself in his workshop to build a new feature for Jarvis that will allow him to scan the Winter Soldier and tell them what's inside his head.

While he's doing that, Steve has his own resources.

Facing the Lieutenant Commander of STRIKE after _everything_ isn't easy. Steve has trusted those men and especially their leaders. Finding out all that time, they were working against him was a blow. Maybe they weren't close, Steve was still relearning to form intimate relationships, but he considered them his friends, or at least people he could trust with his life.

But according to the files Natasha leaked, Jack Rollins was the Winter Soldier’s handler. If anyone knows what he is, it will be him. 

He has a right to question Hydra agents whenever he likes, so setting the meeting is quick. The same night, he walks out and drives to the FBI headquarters where he's led to an interrogation room.

Steve expects it to smell of cigarettes, perhaps because of all the noir movies he has watched recently, but he only finds a no smoking sign. It's a pleasant surprise. The back of the man sitting at a metal table with his hands cuffed to it is neither. Steve sets his jaw and shoulders and circles the table to take a seat on the other side. The man looks up at him and stretches his mouth in a nasty smirk that reminds Steve of how he kind of wishes he was never recovered from the ice.

"Fancy seeing you here, old friend."

Come to think of it, Rollins was never especially friendly. Unlike Rumlow, who tried to be the center of Steve's attention at all times, Rollins spoke to him only when he had to, which wasn't often. It makes this meeting easier. He ignores the jeer and gets straight to the point.

"We have the Winter Soldier. We know what he's made of."

Rollins leans against the back of his chair, his cuffs jingling as he does. He shrugs, his smirk unwavering. "So?"

"I need to know what he is."

Rollins raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say you knew everything about him?"

Steve thins his lips before responding, "That we know he's metal, plastic and wires. And Tony's arc reactor. But we don't know what—who he was."

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

The grin and look in Rollins' eyes tell Steve two things: one, the Winter Soldier didn't lie, and two, Steve isn't going to like the answer. Despite that, he stares Rollins down, waiting for the answer. It doesn't impress him; he just stares Steve down back. Finally, he adjusts in his chair to appear more relaxed and speaks.

"You really expect me to just spill the beans," he says with a note of disbelief in his voice. "Now, why would I do that? It's not like you will torture me or lengthen my sentence. It'll already last me a lifetime.

Steve frowns. It's obvious Rollins wants a payment for the information he has. He has learned information is the most valuable thing these days. Not gold, not diamonds. Information.

"I can try and shorten it," Steve grinds out. "But I can't promise anything."

Rollins considers him for a long while, and for a moment, Steve is sure it's not enough and he won't say a thing. But then, he nods.

"Something to gain, nothing to lose, and I'll actually enjoy telling you the truth." That smirk is back on his face, and it makes Steve frown deeper. "Fuck, you could say it's an honor."

He pauses, savoring the moment. Steve doesn't indulge him by being impatient, but he has a nasty feeling it doesn't weaken Rollins’ pleasure.

"It's James," he says suddenly, his voice devoid of emotion. It's so surprising and vague, Steve needs to blink.

"Who?"

Rollins' smirk grows even wider. "You know. Your James. James Buchanan Barnes."

And the world stops.

If someone asked Steve how he was feeling at that moment, he wouldn’t have an answer. He only knows he’s silent for a long while. He’s barely aware of Rollins watching him intently; of leaving the interrogation room and getting on his motorcycle. For every doubt and question how, his mind supplies an answer, sensible and probable. When he finally snaps out of it, he’s been riding around the city for an hour, and almost convinced Rollins told the truth.

Tony’s waiting for him when he enters the Tower.

“I finished the upgrade for Jarvis,” he says casually, falling in step with Steve. “Where have you been?”

“Talking to the Winter Soldier’s handler,” Steve replies grimly, startling Tony into silence. “Where’s Sam and Natasha? They should hear this, too.”

Ten minutes later, they all gather at the kitchen table, and Steve recounts what he has learned. Everyone stays silent as they realize the gravity of the information. Steve’s the first to break the silence.

"He doesn't even remember me."

Tony winces. "Are you even sure it's him? Didn't he... die? That Hydra guy could be lying just to torment you."

Steve doesn't really listen to him, lost in his own thoughts. "He was experimented on in '43. By Zola." He frowns. "By Hydra. Neither of us knew what he did, but it could help him survive, just like I did the crash."

"It's still a stretch."

"It makes sense."

"Doesn't mean it's true," Tony points out.

And Steve knows he's right. But... Rollins looked so excited to tell him. It didn't sound as a lie. Didn't sound like something somebody born decades after Bucky's death could come up with so easily.

Or maybe Steve just wanted it to be true despite how much he didn't.

“I guess we still don’t know if he’s an AI or not?”

There’s a beat of silence before Tony answers with a barely noticeable note of guilt in his voice. “Actually I let myself scan him without you.” He pauses briefly, and Steve can physically sense the thick tension in the room. “He didn’t lie.”

Steve tries not to think about the meaning of that, but he can’t help but imagine a human brain wired to a robotic body. If that’s really Bucky, what had happened to him for Hydra to do this? What it was like for him? Steve knows what it’s like to wake up in a body that feels different. But he agreed to it. Expected it.

How did the Winter Soldier feel the first time he saw wires inside his body?

“So. What’s the plan?” Tony asks, bringing him back to the present. “How do we know they Hydra guy wasn’t lying?”

"You know about the files I dumped on the internet,” Natasha speaks up for the first time since she heard the news. “If there's proof, it'll be there.”

Steve looks at her with hope. "Could you find it?"

She nods, drinks her coffee at once, and hurries out of the kitchen.

"We don't know who he is," Sam says, "But maybe he does."

Steve exchanges a look with Tony, and he shrugs. It’s worth a try, even if he doesn’t expect the cyborg to talk to them. He stands up with purpose and walks to the holding room, Tony and Sam close on his heels. They follow him inside, though Steve would rather be alone for this. It feels like something intimate, not for the eyes of others.

The Winter Soldier only glances up upon their arrival, then loses interest. He’s staring down at his legs; perhaps he's trying to move them, but they remain useless. If he's really Bucky, Steve hopes Tony can fix him.

"You're Bucky Barnes."

Steve says it with confidence like he knows for sure, trying to get the Winter Soldier either to confirm or deny that statement instead of playing games. This time, the Winter Soldier doesn't look away as he raises his head. He studies Steve with electric blue eyes, his pupils enlarging and shrinking back. Steve can only guess what he's doing; perhaps zooming in on him. Tony said his eyes work similar to a camera. He stays silent for a long while, and Steve starts thinking he will ignore him just like he did all his previous questions, but then he speaks.

"I'm not sure if I am."

Only now, Steve notices a resemblance to Bucky's timbre, and he's not sure if it was made on purpose, or if it's just his imagination. 

"But you think you might be."

The cyborg stares at him longer, assessing him. Finally, he responds, "It's that face. I can't stop seeing it."

Suddenly, Steve remembers they found him in the Smithsonian, and he realizes why he was there. He wasn't just hiding out; he was looking for information. He remembered Steve, the fact that Steve was his mission, and he was looking for him. He might have not heard Bucky's name before, and yet it was Bucky’s face that stayed with him.

"But..." The Winter Soldier speaks again, tearing Steve away from his thoughts. "Bucky Barnes fought against Hydra." He frowns, and it's such a human thing to do. He doesn't resemble Bucky at all with his plain face and electric blue eyes, and yet Steve is trying to decide if they frown the same way.

"What do you remember?"

The Winter Soldier frowns further, but this time Steve waits and waits, and he doesn't respond. Tony taps him on the arm, and he barely holds back a twitch; he completely forgot he and Sam are here, too. They walk out, leaving the Winter Soldier alone with his thoughts.

"That was something," Sam admits.

"But not enough," Steve counters, trying not to sigh in exasperation. 

A day passes, and Steve's still not closer to the solution of this riddle, but he gets the date of the Winter Soldier's trial. Regardless of his identity, he needs to be fixed to walk there. Tony has already agreed to do it, but Steve is stalling with transferring him to the workshop. There’s no need to hurry yet and it’s hard to face him thinking that it might be his best friend who doesn’t even remember who he is, not to mention Steve. The rest of the Avengers aren’t keen on having him up and running while there’s still a possibility he wants to kill them, either.

During that day, Steve reminisces about Bucky a lot. It doesn't help with anything, but he just can't help himself. He mostly thinks back to the night he saved Bucky from the Hydra base. How he recited his name and serial number. What were they pumping him with? Steve knows Zola was trying to recreate the super soldier serum, perhaps that was it. It would explain Bucky surviving the fall—if he did survive.

He looks up when he feels a soft touch on his shoulder. He’s been brooding at the kitchen table, a mug with cold tea standing by his hand.

“I found what you were looking for.” Natasha hands him a tablet with a video open, and just by the sound of her voice Steve figures that whatever it is, he doesn’t want to see it.

But he watches the footage with a deepening frown. In his life, he's seen many people die—being killed—but it never stops being unpleasant to watch. Especially when said killer is his childhood best friend.

The video is grainy and black and white, but Steve would always recognize Bucky's face, he spent almost a lifetime looking at it. It's him and it's the Winter Soldier. It's all the proof he needed to know for certain that the cyborg they've imprisoned in one of the empty rooms of the Avengers Tower is his best friend.

Natasha's face is neutral when he looks up at her, but he knows that despite her past, this video wasn't any easier to watch for her. She drops her gaze for a moment when she says, "It's the Starks."

Steve looks down at the footage that has since stopped playing, and all it shows now is the white noise from the broken camera. He couldn't see well inside the car, but the man the Winter Soldier— _Bucky—_ dragged out could have been an older version of the Howard he had met. He looks up at Natasha with a serious expression.

“Tony can never find out.” 

She nods that she knows. “I have another footage to show him. He’s wearing his mask in it, but if you tell Tony it’s him, he’ll believe you.”

“Can I borrow this?” Steve holds up the tablet she gave him. “I want to show him.”

He can’t call the cyborg Bucky out loud yet. He can’t believe this is happening. Bucky should be dead. Meanwhile, his brain is closed in a body made of metal and plastic and he doesn’t remember who he is. Who Steve is.

“If I find anything else…” Natasha trails off, and when Steve meets her eyes, he realizes she’s been thinking the same thing. What had Hydra been doing to him all those decades?

Steve doesn’t want to know. But he must.

“Then tell me.”

The way to Bucky’s room couldn’t be short enough, but Steve slows down when it’s only a few feet away. He doesn't know what to expect. Will Bucky believe him? Will he say anything to him? Can he convince Bucky he is his best friend and not a target? Even if he can, will Bucky still want to go after his friends?

Bucky is sitting still in the same position. His upper body doesn’t tire out, and he can’t move his bottom. Steve hopes it’ll be soon fixed; that they will uncuff him and Tony will repair him. But that depends on Bucky himself. Steve can only help him remember who he is.

“Did you remember anything else?”

Steve hasn’t expected him to, but Bucky looks up at him—and it’ll be hard to associate the new face with the person—and replies.

“You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

Steve can’t help but smile. If Tony sees the footage, he’ll tease him about it for weeks. 

“You didn’t read that in the Smithsonian.”

Bucky frowns. “No. Maybe a briefing.”

Steve’s smile fades a little. “Does it sound like a useful intel?”

“No.”

At least Bucky’s talking to him. He wants to remember just as much as Steve wants him to. He walks over to him, and Bucky watches his every move like he’s expecting an attack. Steve ignores it, sits down at the table beside him and shows him the tablet. He plays the video of the Starks’ assassination. But Bucky doesn’t look at it; his eyes don’t leave Steve.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help,” Steve assures him. “Now watch. It’s you.”

Bucky reluctantly turns his attention to the video. Steve watches him for a reaction, but he doesn’t get one; Bucky’s face remains still even when at the very end of the footage, he looks straight at the camera before shooting it.

“It’s Bucky Barnes,” he says after the video ends.

“It’s you,” Steve adds.

Bucky remains silent as he processes it. Steve starts considering leaving him alone for a while so he can digest it in peace when he speaks.

“Bucky Barnes fought against Hydra.”

He seems to be hyperfocused on that little bit of information, and it hits Steve it was one of the few things that defined him. He went by different names, could be made of flesh or metal, but for as long as he could remember, he served Hydra. It must be hard for him to accept that Hydra are his enemies, not friends.

“Yes,” Steve says cautiously. “But they made you forget.”

“So I was right. I remembered. It wasn’t a malfunction.”

Un ugly feeling rises within Steve’s chest at the word. He hates that Bucky uses it in relation to himself. He hates what Hydra did to him—not only putting him in a nonorganic body, but also brainwashing him into Hydra’s soldier. He hates they made him kill Tony’s parents, Fury, and who knows who else.

“No,” he says, trying to keep his anger out of his voice. “You are Bucky. My best friend.”

Bucky hands him the tablet. “I’m still missing a lot.”

“I’ll help you. With your memories and with that, too.” Steve taps his legs. “Unless you still think of me and the Avengers as your targets.”

Bucky shakes his head. He could be lying just to get fixed and free. But Steve believes he isn’t.

“There’s also a trail you will have to attend,” he says. “But you’ll be acquitted. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bucky nods. Steve reaches out to uncuff him from the table and stands up. Bucky pulls his hands close and doesn’t make any attempt at Steve’s life what he deems a success.

“I’ll get Tony. He’ll fix your legs,” he says with a relieved smile.

*

Soldier— _B_ _ucky_ —was acquitted.

For now, he’s living with Steve and his friends in the Tower. He has nowhere else to go. He doesn’t know if he wants to go anywhere.

Steve tells him stories about their past, but he still misses a big chunk of his life. He thinks he has a good idea of who Bucky Barnes was. He doesn’t know if he wants to be that person. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to Hydra and be fixed. It would be easier to just not remember and have others tell him what to do. But in the Tower, no one hurts him. No one expects anything from him. He’s free to do what he wants, even if he’s not always sure what that is.

There are many things he’s unsure of yet, but Steve says he’ll figure it all out in time, so he at least knows that.


End file.
